


The gifts of a merciful death

by SennaLaureen



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Modern World AU, it's up to the reader whether the OC is the reincarnation of Anders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:56:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SennaLaureen/pseuds/SennaLaureen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After his merciful death he wakes up in a new world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The gifts of a merciful death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lamenta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamenta/gifts).



> I wrote it a while ago and uploaded on tumblr, and just now decided to publish and gift it to the wonderful Lamenta, who won't stop tormenting me with Kanders feels!

This new world fascinated him. It also should have frightened him, but given his current state and everything he already went through, he doubted anything was a threat to him here. This world was devoid of magic, yet filled with it to the brim: the way these people used electricity to create wonderful things that connected them with others all over the world, or these mechanical wonders that people maneuvered from one place to another quicker than the quickest Fereldan horses.

But the aspect of freedom in this world was that interested him the most, given his past: people in this world were free in ways he never could’ve imagined possible for anyone in his own world. It took him two months after waking up completely naked nearby a small town to understand this world to a degree that allowed him to become a part of it. A very small part, a wandering musician who never stayed at one place, wearing worn-out black jeans and a black sweatshirt with a turtle-neck, a guitar always on his back, smiling at children who passed him by on a sidewalk.

He played his guitar and people threw money to him, their mood increasing at the cheerful songs he brought to them to lighten their mood, to make them halt their frantic lives, even if it was just for a moment. He didn’t use that money for himself - since he woke up he didn’t once experience hunger, thirst or tiredness - he mostly gave it to homeless people he saw here and there, to animal shelters or similar institutions.

Very rarely did he use his magic, the fear still deep in him. The first time he accidentally cast a healing spell at the miserable kitten at the wayside, he was terrified. He shouldn’t be able to, this was impossible, his mind screamed at him, as he run until he was out of breath. As soon as he calmed, and thought about everything again, his magic abilities returned to him was only logical, given that his emotions returned as well, even if he experienced them way more smoothly, calmly than before, like whispers through a thick wall - happiness by seeing people smile at his songs or a homeless person buying themselves food with money he gave them, sadness by seeing homeless animals and poverty, which differed much from poverty in his own world.

This world was a blessing to him, sort of a paradise, a place that granted him peace and freed him from the constant terror of his past life, and he was content just travelling around, on the wayside of people’s lives, looking at them but never touching, never getting involved, their happiness making him happy as well, until he lifted his gaze from a cat in front of him on the sidewalk and saw him.

This was the second time he freaked out, but this time he ran after this man and grabbed him by the shoulder, wishing no more than to see the familiar, beloved face…. but he was mistaken. The man he rudely turned around to look at wasn’t the one he so desperately missed, though there was similarity to his old friend in the blond hair and posture.

He couldn’t calm down for a moment, disappointment causing actual pain in his chest, one of the few occasions when his emotions raised above a calm whisper, babbling apologies to the man, who suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him along, pushing him inside a small, empty bar. Alex, that was the blond man’s name, was the first person who actively acknowledged his existence beyond the one of a musician at the sideways by grabbing his shoulders and demand he calm down, and answering whether everything was alright.

He couldn’t resist staying. Alex refused to simply let him go, and he found himself giving in into the warm feeling of not being alone anymore. Not that he was all that lonely or unhappy on the road, but having another person around made him feel like human again, and not like a ghost.

He stayed, and helped Alex with his bar, either accompanying the bartender to groceries in the afternoon, playing his guitar or helping Alex barkeep during the late evenings. His new friend did not ask of his past, he didn’t ask why he never ate or drunk anything, Alex didn’t even ask for his name, for which he was grateful - he wasn’t sure he wanted to share so much with someone else already, though one could think that sharing the majority of his time with that person as well as the small flat above the bar was already much more than his name. But his old name was still connected to the world he was happy to have escaped, and he didn’t decide on either choosing a new one, or finally revealing it to Alex. Alex, who trusted him so blindly, who let him in and readily merged his life with him, casting this beautiful smile at him, that made him feel weak in the knees, a sacred feeling, that was up until now reserved only for someone he left behind in his world and missed dearly.

Their first kiss broke the barrier that held back his feelings, ultimately breaking the hold of the cruel ritual. Overwhelmed by his emotions, he pressed Alex’ body closer to him, hiding tears on his friend’s neck.

Alex pulled back, looked him in the eyes with this comprehending look and pressed his hands on his cheeks, washing away the tears.

“You are home, my dear.”

“Karl,” he whispered, leaning into the touch, “my name is Karl.”

**Author's Note:**

> As I already mentioned, it's up to the user whether Alex is the reincarnation of Anders.


End file.
